days 1-3

i am in ishvahan now, at a fancy hotel with real toilets and air conditioning. spent the last few days in teheran at my great aunt's - all the places in teheran that ive been to, the toilets were holes in the ground (but still better than any french highway stop!) it's funny how much toilets start to matter when you travel. we went to the neighborhood my mother grew up in, and had coffee (bad, bad coffee!) at their equivalent of the hungarian pastry shop. we walked around a ton in teheran, visited the shah's palace and the museum of the crown jewels, which were both impressive. backto teheran in a few days - first, 2 in ishvahan and 2 in shiraz with a short stop at persepolis.

ishvahan is gorgeous. the kind of place you want to go on for your honeymoon, it's very romantic and clean (the mayor taxes heavily, but in exchange he built nice parks and the city is cleaned every 12 hours!) tomorrow we are visiting ancient mosques and a zoroastrian temple, as well as the bazaar.

i am having a great time. it's so interesting and beautiful, and let me say straight off that everything - yes, absolutely everything that american news channels and politicians say about iran - is total and utter bullshit. ignore them ALL. teheran has more in common with a big cosmopolitan city than a terrirost camp. the people are incredibly sweet, there is no sentiment of terror (nothing like int he US - i feel safer here than in geneva!) and the atmposphere is funloving, busy, but relaxed. i feel like an estranged cousin at a family gathering - not completely clueless but kind of out of the loop. which is also a bit how i feel in the states, come to think of it, just less stressed out and incredulous.

aerial view

the spirits of great cities rise at night. you can tell more about the city from above in the dark than on the pavement at midday. paris glows a voluptuous balmn, ready to take you in, wine you, dine you and leave you grinning. new york glares up, glancing at her wristwatch. geneva shines, but is static. and teheran glitters - a glistening gold.

landing

two young women who were on my flight from paris fretted about their appearance upon their arrival.
"is my hair showing?" they asked each other in perfect French, thinking that they would be arrested on the spot for flashing a lock of fringe or a patch of skin.
they left the building nervously and found themselves emvbraced by several family members who exposed half theur heads and even a few stray necks and ankles. as they chatted animatedly in persian, they saw that it was nothing like it is on TV.

compassion

compassion is a quality that new yorkers seldom express; the closest we get is pity, or worse, liberal guilt. i won't speak for the rest of the usa (it speaks for itself.)
in teheran, compassion is promoted similarly to the way in which sex is sold in the US. it is put forward by koranic verses and speeches by martyrs on poseters accompanied by serene images - an equivalent to pop slogans and nude celebrities in times square. and it works - people are quick to express their feelings and empathize with one another, even if they are complete strangers. it seems like everyone is a friend, even if i don't understand what they are saying.

the arabs

i have noticed that iranians are horribly racist towards arabs. they hate to be likened to the race of "nomads without a culture". my great aunt gets very angry when she sees posters in arabic (mostly quoting the koran)because she is afraid of their inluence. she complains almost five times a day.

"i was going to reserve rooms at a very famous hotel in isvahan, bur it was completely full!" exclaimed my great aunt on the day of our arrival in teheran.
"you know why?" she continued. "the bloody arabs have arrived! they look like crows, their women - ridiculous! i saw them walking around today with their little eye holes and their huge robes, just like crows!"
we laughed, picturing a flock of crows teetering around confused and half blinded. there was no doubt about the tragic, comic truth behind her observation.
"good thing we're more civilized, here!" she added, not without contempt but certainly not ungrateful either.

the teheran bazaar

the bazaar is a curious place. everybody is running around doing something, and not in that busier than thou way ubiquitous in manhattan. barteringis near compulsory, and you can buy everything under the sun. you can even purchase lingerie (yes, out in the open! the iranians aren't puritans, after all!) - not just granny pants or white cotton, but everything from sports bras to racy ensembles. but be sure to watch out for the portrait of ayatollah khomeini winking in the corner of the underwear display bin, wedged between lacy red bras and frilly white panties.

veiling

What's all the fuss about? veiling is such a minor detail in everyday life here. it's not uncomfortable or oppressive; in fact, it keeps your hair clean, which is definitely convenient in a huge city like teheran. i don't know why feminists are often so adamantly against veiling. i would consider myself a very secular, very liberal feminist, and i see no problem with it. onthe contrary, the culture here does not breed ridiculous standards of beauty because hey! you're not allowed to show off your airbrushed legs to the world! "does my butt look big in this" is a non-issue, for obvious reasons. so much for the Symbol of Patriarchy - what's worse? covering up and being left alone, or feeling pressure to dress like a porno star and be insecure about it? i would certainly recommend a week of veiling to carrie bradshaw, in any case.

(sometimes, when i'm waiting for my family to hurry the fuck up and walk faster, or when i'm peeing in a hole, or gagging at the coffee or getting frustrated because i don't understand farsi, i do miss new york something rotten. but i am so happy to be here.)